Yesterday morning a single piece of paper bearing the insignia of our municipal office appeared on the shutters of a window on the lower square. It pronounced that no cars should be parked on the square between one and four o’clock today. The reason for this unusual injunction was rather cryptic: state protocol. Miraculously, no cars were there by one o’clock, when I walked through the square for the first time. When I walked through it again around three o’clock, the square was jammed with three black cars and a white police car that escorted them. All were empty. The cars completely blocked access to Borgo, the second most important street in Motovun. Although no-one I spoke to knew what was going on, apparently we had the honor of being visited by the governor of New South Wales in Australia, who is reportedly enchanted by the Istrian countryside. Some state protocol, this. And some display of local democracy, too.

Addendum (September 3, 2007)

In response to this piece, which I sent to friends across the globe as an electronic postcard, Will Hughes sent me the governor’s page on the Internet. She is a certain Marie Bashir with offices in Sydney, the capital of New South Wales. She is a professor, as well. Judging by her picture, also available on the site, she must have had quite a bit of experience in teaching and research. Will also sent me an article about her visit to Istria, so there is no question about today’s visitor. As neither Will nor I could find her electronic-mail address, he suggested that I send her a postcard, my favorite mode of communication. And this is what I just did. It will reach her in a week or so. The postcard shows Motovun’s medieval walls from the air. A formidable sight, I must add with some pride. For good measure, I sent an identical postcard to the governor of Istria, Ivan Jakovčić. As neither of the host nor the guest are used to missives of this ilk, I am eager to find out what the state protocols of New South Wales and Istria have to offer in such unusual cases. Actually, I already know about the Istrian protocol: dismissive silence. It matches perfectly that cheeky order pasted on the shutters of a window on the lower square of our town.